


For the First Time

by SlytherinHermione



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape Lives, Song: For the First Time (The Script)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinHermione/pseuds/SlytherinHermione
Summary: You know that feeling when your heart is broken because you love someone just so much, but you feel like you're losing them?Perhaps you've already lost them?The feeling of helplessness. The feeling like you would do anything to get them back. You would do anything for them.You would do anything for him.But is he still yours to love?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	For the First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Angsty inspiration struck when listening to The Script's song For the First Time, but don't worry - there is fluff and lemons (can't do without 💚)
> 
> Many thanks to my beta (yes I finally got one) - [rhysenne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysenne/pseuds/rhysenne)  
> 💚 Such immense help in making my fic beautifully coherent.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: All characters are created and owned by JK Rowling.  
> Song that inspired this work and story name, belongs to The Script.  
> This work is intended for entertainment purposes and no gains are derived from it.

You know that feeling when your heart is broken because you love someone just so much, but you feel like you're losing them?

_ Perhaps you've already lost them _ ?

The feeling of helplessness. The feeling like you would do anything to get them back. You would do anything for them.

_ You would do anything for him. _

But is he still yours to love?

* * *

Hermione was laying in bed, where she'd been crying since she came home after work. As soon as she had Floo'd in, she knew that he hadn't come home yet. He had been staying at work later and later, seemingly coming up with excuse after excuse to stay away from home. Away from her. 

After the war, Hermione and Ron had explored their relationship, finally giving in to their emotions, and they—along with everyone else—thought that theirs would be a love that lasted forever. For a couple of months, everything was truly perfect. They were all working to build up a life again, determined to make a better future for all, but eventually, when you manage to do just that, it means that you have to come back to the real world of work, bills, and every day responsibilities. 

And so it was that Hermione Granger had decided to go back to school while her boyfriend Ron and her best friend Harry decided to skip their last year and went straight on to becoming Aurors instead. 

Alone at Hogwarts, for the first time without her loyal friends, Hermione focused solely on her studies, excelling in everything except being an eighteen year old girl living her best life. So it was in a moment of boredom and anger at all the years of fun that she'd missed out on, that she snuck down to the Slytherin common room to crash the party thrown by their eighth years. 

The Slytherins that had returned to finish their education consisted, among others, of Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Draco Malfoy. During the culmination of the war, they had become known as the Silver Trio, as they all had been recruited by Severus Snape to go turncoat against the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Draco, with his Dark Mark and inside information, had been so invaluable during the war that he had been hailed a hero. All three had received the First Order of Merlin right alongside Professor Snape. 

And so it was that Draco Malfoy became a good guy.

What both Draco and Hermione didn't know was that on that fateful night, the fates, or destiny, or whatever might be out there that likes to play with mere people, decided that these two were meant for each other. 

* * *

Hermione found that she had no issues sneaking into the Slytherin common room—it was not as if they had tried hard to keep people away, as it turned out.

Standing in the dark, quiet corridor in front of a bare stretch of stone wall, she took a moment to think like a Slytherin. 

Cunning, ambitious, and resourceful… After a few moments of deliberation, she jokingly uttered the phrase " _ Slither in…" _

_ "Guys... really?" _ she thought to herself as the stone wall rearranged itself and opened up the passage to the belly of the castle. As soon as she stepped through the threshold, she walked along the wall straight to a corner, reaching a table that was overflowing with alcohol of all kinds. 

Hermione chuckled to herself, thinking,  _ Only the best is good enough for sophisticated Slytherins. _ She grabbed the closest bottle and filled her glass, finally taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of their common room. She had always imagined that it would be cold, dark, and drab. But the giant round window that covered a whole wall and half of the ceiling not only gave the most enticing view of the Black Lake, but also covered the room in a soft green ethereal hue that made you feel safe. The roaring fires in the two fireplaces that were on opposite sides of the walls warmed up the area, allowing the inhabitants to take off their jumpers, roll up their sleeves, and relax in a manner that was so often seen up at Gryffindor Tower. 

Hermione found it somewhat disconcerting that she felt right at home in this big, luxurious space. Not only did the ambiance make her feel welcome, but the first sips of a very strong but palatable drink relaxed her further, so she finally ventured off to one of the sofas that were placed close to the fireplaces. There were people standing, sitting, talking in all corners, a big mix of all the houses. Hermione was impressed at the post-war unity that could be found here. Who would've thought that Slytherin would be the house that brought them all together in the end. She was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn't even notice that she'd sat herself on the sofa where the Silver Trio had made themselves comfortable for the night.

"All right there, Hermione?" Theodore Nott asked with a teasing tilt and an amused look on his face. Theo and Hermione had become fast friends after being partnered up in Potions at the beginning of the year. They were not only on a first-name basis, but also loved to tease each other. Sadly, Hermione hadn't dared become friendly with the rest of the Slytherins. She hated to admit it, but she was too scared that they might not really want to be her friends, now that the common goal of ending a war was gone. Hermione had known that Blaise, Theo, and Draco were on the “good” side, but she hadn't really interacted with them beyond the secret hurried meetings at Grimmauld Place and the first meetings post-war, when the rebuilding of their society was being discussed. 

"Oh, Theo! I'm sorry I didn't see you there! Umm, I am going to be honest… I snuck in here… I hope that's alright!! I can leave if you guys don't want me here…" Hermione was suddenly mortified and stood up to leave when Draco Malfoy chuckled and said, "Calm down, Granger, and sit your pretty bum right back on that sofa! We are delighted to have you here!"

Hermione couldn't help but blush for being called out, but more so when she realized he'd called her bum pretty.  _ What? _

Draco continued, "We invited everyone, and we would never dream of excluding you." He smirked, seemingly appraising her from head to toe. 

Hermione couldn’t help but giggle. She relaxed a little, finally finding her footing.

"Are you flirting with me, Malfoy?" she said, surprising not only the guys sitting next to her, but also herself. 

This was a new side of her that she'd been working on—being more open to fun, and engaging with people in a way that opened for her true personality to come forward even outside of her little group of Harry and the Weasleys. She had to admit, she felt a thrill going through her as she looked into Draco's steely gray eyes and saw his appreciation shining through. 

"My, my Granger, look at you, calling me out on my infatuation with you," Draco laughed, not shying away from finally telling the girl he fancied how he truly felt. 

Draco knew that Hermione had been in a relationship with Ron Weasley over the summer, but he'd heard rumors that they hadn't fared well since she started school again. And he was right.

Ron and Hermione had not even had a falling out, but their relationship fizzled out pretty fast when they were separated from each other. Hermione realized that distance did not in fact make her heart grow fonder, but rather make her feel relieved that she wasn't around Ron anymore. Even if they'd had it really good when they were together, it never felt quite right. She had felt as if there should've been more passion, as she'd always imagined her true love sweeping her off her feet.

So it is safe to say that she was shocked to feel her heart pick up its rhythm and butterflies to burst alive in her stomach when she realized that Draco was, in fact, flirting with her. 

That night, she realized that she’d been silly for ever doubting the friendship that the Slytherins would extend her. Blaise was a great conversationalist who always seemed to be holding court, with the way his audience hung onto every word he said. Theo’s humour saw no bounds, and his sarcasm and wit kept everyone on their toes, always coming back for more. 

And Draco… now, Draco truly swept her off her feet, in every sense of the word. From that first interaction, he had moved around his friends on the sofa, as if they were mere colors on a Rubik's cube, until he found himself glued to her side. He engaged her in fantastic conversation about everything from the extraordinary to the mundane. He enveloped her in his fresh, spicy scent that had her inhaling more air than her lungs needed, just so that she could imprint the undertones of it in her mind. Hermione would never have believed it—no, not ever—but there she sat as she fell in love with the infamous, smirking Draco Malfoy. His eyes, so focused on her, his smile showing off straight teeth and sharp canines (oh Merlin, was she ever the daughter of dentists!), blond hair that begged for her fingers to run through it. She’d never believed that she was that type of girl, but there it was—she had her heels up in the air somewhere, her heart dangling in front of Draco, ripe for the taking. 

Theirs was a quick fall, where they didn't dawdle, but rather went all-in with a passion for each other, and a love on full display.

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, fools in love like nobody else.

Draco had loved her for longer than she'd known, though. 

For him, it was the fire in her eyes when they strategized over prisoner retrieval raids, as he silently listened from a corner. 

It was the relentless drive she had after the war. Even though she'd been through so much, she still led the way to a better world. 

He'd never had the guts to interact with her, but that hadn't stopped him from wanting to do more, more, and more to win the blasted war. For her. So that people like her could live in a good world. Truly, it was she that had changed his prejudices to begin with, which had been the reason for his defection! How could a good witch like that be worth any less than anyone else?

So when he'd heard the rumors of the fallout between everyone's favorite golden couple, he'd been smugly pleased.

When he saw her sit her pert little body on that sofa as the party was in full swing, he'd rejoiced!

When he finally got to sit next to her, engage with her just to see that fire and passion that made him fall, he'd known that she was it for him. He'd spend the rest of his life worshipping at her feet. 

* * *

  
  


Draco was sitting in a dingy little bar in the Muggle world, close to his home. He didn’t know how he’d ended up there, he just knew that he hadn’t wanted to go home. Lately, he was frequently struck with a feeling of dread, a feeling of hopelessness, and an unnamed feeling that always had his heart pounding and palms sweating. 

_ Merlin, fuck it all, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.  _

_ It wasn’t supposed to go this way. _

As he was sitting alone, drinking Jack—a Muggle drink that he abhorred—he knew that Hermione probably was laid up in their bed, waiting for him, wondering what she’d done so wrong as to keep him away from their home. 

_ Fuck, his heart was breaking.  _

He stared into his whiskey, unblinking, until he felt tears well up in his eyes. 

It wasn’t her fault. 

After they’d seemingly crashed together in eighth year, they’d been inseparable. He’d never loved anyone or anything as he did Hermione. Her ambition was his drive. They spoke of plans full of grandeur, of how they were going to improve the world so that their children never had to worry for a single day. They’d been so naive. 

After Draco had turned his back on his legacy, his father had immediately disowned him. As his mother had always followed in the footsteps of her husband, she hadn’t done much other than send a letter with a heartfelt but short missive of  _ “I will always love you, Draco.”  _ So he had been all on his own, uncertain of the future until Hermione lodged herself into his heart. At that point, it seemed that everything would be alright. 

But it was far from easy. They’d both managed to get good jobs after their school days ended at Hogwarts. Hermione worked for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and he’d gotten a good start as a trainee in the Auror program. 

But, as it turned out, a war that had shook the whole Wizarding population in Great Britain had also left their society in great economical peril, a recession that left very little money to pay their citizens with, even for the more prestigious jobs. Voldemort's reign, and the havoc wreaked by the Death Eaters even outside of the borders of England, left a lot of debt in its path, and a long, slow road to recovery until riches could be distributed. 

So, even as everything was being rebuilt and ambitions ran high, Draco and Hermione struggled to make ends meet. Neither of them had ever imagined life leading them down that path. Both of them coming from rich families, and both of them filled with a drive to excel—any alternative other than success had been unthinkable. 

For Hermione, this  _ failure _ —it ran deeper. During the war, to protect those whom she held dearest, she was forced to enter her parents’ minds and remove every single trace of herself in their consciousness—and in their hearts. A task that no sixteen-year-old should have to live through. Especially since it was known that an  _ Obliviate  _ was a finality. A decision you couldn’t take back. 

So for Hermione, this  _ failure _ meant that she had failed her parents. Her beloved academic, beyond intelligent parents, who held prestige and success at the highest standards. Who had poured all of their hard-earned pride into their only child—their  _ magical _ child—in every sense. 

Failing her parents, not because of a lack of trying, but because of the million obstacles thrown at her, Draco, and their generation due to a failed society, had almost broken her. 

It was Draco, and his steadfast belief in her, as well as the love that he freely gave, that kept her spirits up—knowing that there would be a better day tomorrow. 

Their love never took a toll. Never, not even for a single moment, had their struggles seeped into their relationship other than strengthening them in solidarity for the obstacles they had to overcome. 

Until Draco had lost his job. 

It seemed that Lucius Malfoy’s deep pockets had boundless reach, even in a society that should hate him for his past transgressions. A Death Eater in both the First and Second Wizarding Wars, he’d still somehow gotten away from an Azkaban sentence by greasing the right palms. So, when Draco had gained some standing in the Auror force, Lucius had seen it fit to undermine him and manipulate the Ministry into making Draco a persona non grata in every department. How the word hadn’t spread to Hermione, Draco didn’t know. Probably Lucius’s evil bidding there as well. Because when Draco had lost his job, he didn’t know how he could tell his darling Hermione that they’d lost their precious second income. 

How would he explain to her that he’d tried to fix it without telling her so that she didn’t have to worry, but that in the end, all he’d managed to do was get door after door slammed shut in his face? 

As time passed, the dread and hopelessness started to take control of his life, and he drew away from Hermione. How would she be able to even be in the same room as him, knowing how he’d failed them? All of their great plans, the future they’d envisioned for their imagined children—a future that probably would never come to be now. He was so scared that she’d leave him, that he hadn’t seen how his absence was driving them apart. 

Now he sat there in that bar, his heart breaking for the love of his life, and the unnamed feeling becoming clearer with every sip from his glass. It was  _ failure _ . The feeling was failure. But as his heart pounded to the beat of Hermione, he knew it wasn’t failure due to his job anymore. It was the failure he’d allowed to happen in his relationship! 

He suddenly stood up and pushed away from the bar. Digging into his pockets for the spare Muggle coins he always carried with him, he threw them haphazardly on top of the bar, grabbed his jacket and ran to the nearest corner shop to buy a couple of cheap bottles of wine. 

He went to the back of the alley and Apparated home.

* * *

Draco stepped through the Floo and was greeted by a dark, seemingly empty house. The silence was deafening, making his heart clench because it was a testament to his failure. His wife no longer waited for him to come home. His beautiful love, the reason for his beating heart, had given up on her belief in him. And he had no one to blame but himself. His pride. His fear of failure—which was ironic, since it had taken him so long to realize that it was in fact failure which had been the unnamed feeling in his gut. 

As he stood there, he remembered that he was an intelligent man. He was a Slytherin, and a Malfoy to boot. Failure was never an option. Hermione had healed his heart, so failing her was something unacceptable. He loved her, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she loved him.

Coming into his resolve, he walked toward the one place she could be—their private sanctuary. Their shared bed. 

Walking into the room, cautious but determined, he saw her broken form prone on the bed. His heart broke further, knowing that the tears on her face were caused by him, which prompted the first words spoken between them in several days.

“I’m sorry.” 

Hermione was aware that he had entered the room, but she stayed silent. When he uttered those first words, her heart stuttered to a halt, imagining all of the possible reasons he could be sorry for. Had he cheated on her? Was he leaving her? 

"Draco… what... what are you sorry for?" she whispered with a thick voice.

His eyes widened for a second as he saw the fear in her eyes, realizing that her mind must be racing through a million worst-case scenarios. 

He dropped the bags filled with wine and crisps and raced to the bed, reverently grabbing her delicate face in his large hands. 

"Hermione—it's all right, my love, everything will be alright… I—I lost my job… I lost it a while ago, and I couldn't bear telling you, letting you down… I couldn't.” His voice got thicker as tears welled up in his eyes, as he tried to make her understand.

Hermione gasped, feeling a sense of relief wash over her, even if his confession was heartbreaking in a sense. Not only was it yet another obstacle they had to face, but he'd been keeping such a big secret to himself… he hadn't been honest with her, which was one of the most important pillars in their relationship. Still, the relief was there because she knew, no matter what, he was still hers. His heart was still beating for her, and that was something that had always kept her strong. Kept her moving forward. 

She knew that love was magic, and the love they had was worth every hardship.

"Draco, Draco, it's okay, we'll figure it out… as long as we're together.” She was now holding on tight to him as they both clung to each other. 

"You great prat," she said lovingly. "You don't know how scared I've been these past couple of days… weeks… I thought I was losing you, Draco!" Her tone had started to change into dread once more, but Draco fiercely exclaimed, "Never Hermione, never! You and me until the end, through any hardship, and every joyful moment. It will always be us!"

They both felt elated as they started to laugh, realizing what fools they'd been. Draco settled his arms around her as they moved back to lean against the headboard, kissing the top of her head with a content exhale. 

"We still need to talk, Draco… you lied to me, and it scares me that you felt as if you couldn't come to me with such a heavy burden," she said into his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry, I don't have any excuse but the fact that I didn't want you to feel the anguish I felt when Robards told me what my father had managed to do." 

Hermione drew in a small breath. "I should've known your father had something to do with this." Anger seeped into her voice. She usually thought of herself as a person who wasn't hateful, but Lucius had a number on her list. Then again, so did Voldemort, Umbridge, Skeeter, and a whole bunch of Death Eaters, so maybe she was a tad hateful after all. It should be a testament to her abhorrence of Lucius Malfoy if he was teetering on first place along with old smelly Voldy.

"We'll fix this." She eyed the bags that were still on the floor. "What did you buy?" she inquired, not wanting to move from Draco's warm embrace. She felt starved for his touch, missing him fiercely since he'd started drawing away. 

"Oh, you're going to love this." Draco chuckled as he tried to pry himself away to pick up the bags, but Hermione only held on tighter.

"Love, I'm not going anywhere. Let me show you what I got for us," he said quietly, following it up with a sweet kiss that took her breath away.

She finally released him as her curiosity took over. When he opened up the bags, settling back on the bed, she started to laugh. "Draco, it's our favourite cheap wine!". 

They had spent many nights sitting up, getting drunk on these unpalatable cheap bottles of wine, but those were still the nights she cherished in her memories. Those were the nights that always brought them closer to each other, as they were filled with drunken confessions, exclamations, and worship. 

"Nothing will be left unsaid. I'll sit up all night if that's what it takes to gain your forgiveness and trust again," Draco said, looking down on the bottle he was holding. 

Hermione conjured two glasses of wine with her wand, took the bottle from his hand and poured two healthy portions for each of them. 

"You never lost my trust, and you already have my forgiveness, Draco. I love you. I was only afraid that I'd lost your love, but let us talk. We need to figure out what to do as far as our future goes," she said with a teary smile. 

Draco took a sip from the glass she'd offered him, waited for her to take a sip of her own before he took both and put it on the nightstand next to his side of the bed. 

He then took her hand, looking her in the eyes as he leaned in for a kiss. He was starved for her taste, and the kiss soon turned into more. A dance they'd practiced to perfection, but which still felt new and unexplored with each push and pull. 

He laid her down, tangling his fingers in her hair, marveling at the feel of her. Her smell, her taste.

Hermione was quickly divesting him of his shirt, caressing every inch of his strong body, going deeper in for the kiss. 

His tongue caressing hers still sent a jolt through her system, speeding up her heart. 

_ The feel of love. _

Soon they were lying naked on top of their sheets, moaning into each other's mouths as he slowly entered the deepest parts of her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and as their hands were tangled above her head, he sped up his thrusts, never losing depth, but hitting the sweetest spots with each caress.

Hermione was seeing stars as her body reached the highest peak, and she came with his name on her lips.

Draco came not from the flutter he felt on his member, not from the gorgeous woman that laid under him, but from the utter feeling of love that enveloped him in that moment.

_ Love is magic. _

They laid entangled for a long moment, as they caught their breaths, before Draco languidly kissed her. 

"Now we can sit talking up all night," he smirked, sitting up and covering them both with their sheets. He reached for the wine again, and they toasted their love as they looked into each other's eyes. They knew that whatever tomorrow would bring had nothing on the force they could wield together.

They talked about everything, as if it was that first night when they'd sat on the sofa in the Slytherin common room, well after the party had died down, and the rest of the students had gone to bed. 

They stayed up all night talking, saying things, doing things they hadn't for a while.

And so it was that our lovers found themselves in bed long past Christmas morning, whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears and cementing sweet everythings in each other's hearts—feeling like they were meeting for the first time.

* * *

But we're gonna start by  
Drinking old cheap bottles of wine  
Shit talking up all night  
Doing things we haven't for a while, a while, yeah  
We're smiling but we're close to tears, even after all these years  
We just now got the feeling that we're meeting  
For the first time

\- The Script

**Author's Note:**

> There may be a small epilogue coming in the future thanks to the awesome FB group Dark Art's Society which helped me decide on which manip to use for the story... The poll came in 50/50, hence another chapter needs to be written so I can use both! 😊💚  
> Thank you so much for reading my little story!


End file.
